The Conference Table Snowblind Sequel
by Laura W
Summary: For months, folks clamored for a sequel or epilogue to "Snowblind." I'm not sure this is what anyone expected, but it sure was fun to write. J/C, NC-17.


**THE CONFERENCE TABLE**

* * *

_March 1996_

_A sequel of sorts to "Snowblind." NC-17. Please don't read if you're underage or offended by such material._

**THE CONFERENCE TABLE  
**  
The instant her arms went around him, she knew it was a bad idea.

She'd only meant to give him a reassuring hug, just a friendly embrace to show him he had been missed and she was glad to have him home. It wasn't in her nature to be so familiar with one of her crew -- a pat on the back or a squeeze of a uniform-clad shoulder were more her style. An embrace -- she wasn't sure why she had reached out to him the way she had. But she had, it was done, and she found herself standing in the middle of the conference room with her arms full of her first officer.

She was suddenly very glad she had dismissed the rest of the crew.

Because slowly, agonizingly slowly, his arms slipped around her, too, one arm around her shoulders and one around her waist, pressing her close and holding her tight. Almost instinctively she had let her head drop into the hollow of his neck and the feel of his skin against her cheek sent a jolt throughout her entire body. She gasped at the sudden rush of heat.

His breathing quickened -- she felt his chest expand and contract almost explosively -- and the arm around her shoulders moved until his hand was wrapped around her neck, his thumb lightly brushing her earlobe. She started to pull away but realized that her hands had become inexplicably twisted in the material at the back of his uniform. And so instead she clenched her fingers into tight fists and pulled him closer. She was rewarded with a sudden sharp exhalation and the warmth of his lips on her forehead --

They both pulled away suddenly, though her hands remained tangled in his uniform and his arm held her waist, locking their lower bodies together.

Eyes met, whole volumes of information passed between them in an instant, though only a few syllables were uttered aloud.

"Captain -- "

"Commander -- "

They were the last coherent words either of them spoke.

She launched herself at him, practically climbing up his body in an attempt to get at him, to lock her arms around his head and devour him whole. The logistics were all wrong at first -- his nose was too big, her mouth was too wide -- but after a few seconds of furtive experimentation they seemed to find a comfortable angle from which to gnaw at each other.

She felt his teeth on her lips, then on her chin, her earlobes, her neck. She responded in kind, nibbling hungrily at his cheekbones, his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose. She felt she hadn't eaten in days, weeks, maybe even longer. And he was delicious, warm and salty from the heat of their closeness. She nuzzled her way along his hairline until she reached his tattoo, which she lapped at greedily, suddenly wanting nothing more than to hold him down and lick it right off his forehead.

Somehow she found his mouth again and his hands moved down her body to hold her backside. A low moan escaped her lips and she pressed her pelvis into him while they continued to feed on each other. He stiffened and lifted her up a little, rubbing her hard against his body, grunting with effort and panting with need.

Then they were tearing at their clothing -- first each other's, then their own -- fumbling with zippers and too-tight turtlenecks. She had her uniform half off before she remembered her boots. She bent to remove them but stopped mid-motion; he was already out of uniform and standing naked before her, aroused and a little sheepish.

The prospect was too delicious to pass up. She pressed her face into his belly for an instant, flicked her tongue out to taste the skin there, and lowered her head.

Exquisite. Hot and dry, spicy, his lower body scented with sweat and something stronger. Much better than anything she'd ever tasted in Neelix's kitchen. She reached around and stroked his lower back and buttocks while he rocked in her mouth, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. She slurped at him, famished, until his hands cupped her head and he pulled her up to face him.

Eyes met again, this time with a silent question.

_Table or floor?_

A wordless answer passed between them; he lifted her up and settled her on the conference table, pausing only to slip off her boots and the rest of her uniform before he climbed onto the table after her.

His mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, nibbling her ears, gnawing her collarbone, lapping at her neck while his hands slowly stroked her thighs. She held his head in both hands while he suckled her breasts, she passed her fingers through his hair and fondled his too-large ears. He kissed his way down the center of her body, pausing only to sniff here, lick there, and she shivered in anticipation.

When his tongue slithered into her she gasped and raised herself to him, opening her body to his kiss. It was too much, she realized, she was going to come hard in a few seconds, and she hadn't even felt him inside her yet. As he had a moment before, she reached down and pulled him up to face her.

There was no pause this time, no silent question, no second of uncertainty or confusion. Eyes met; he crept up her body, lowered himself onto her, and into her.

They moved together easily, as if they had been lovers for years. She had expected a moment of discomfort at the beginning -- after all, it had been a very long time since she'd done anything of this sort. But there was no discomfort, only a feeling of overwhelming rightness, as if his body had been constructed specifically for her pleasure, and her body for his. She stroked him while he made love to her, let her fingers travel over his body, examining with interest the long, strong muscles and the hard, compact ones. He shivered when she brushed her fingers up his sides, groaned in pleasure and thrust harder. She let herself go soft beneath him, soft and achingly open, rocking her body in time to his rhythm and her own.

Too soon, it was over. He slid his hands beneath her and raised her up a little, locking her firmly to him. She stretched her legs around his body, letting her muscles tighten around him, milking his pleasure from him. His face changed, relaxed suddenly and he smiled down at her the instant before he poured his body into hers. The expression startled her and she released a breath she did not know she had been holding. But it didn't come out as a moan or a shriek, as she had expected. Her body convulsed around him, she rocked her hips against his. And laughed.

Laughed long and hard until her tremors stilled, until she heard him chuckling with her and felt him wiping tears away from her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring down at her with a lopsided grin, an expression of tender good humor. "I'm going to try not to take this personally," he said softly.

She chuckled, stroking the side of his face. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe we waited so long to do this, and then... The conference table, of all places..."

"I know." He shook his head in mock-disapproval. "We're both going to be very sore in the morning."

"Me more than you, I think."

He started and tried to roll off her, but she fastened her arms around him and pulled him closer. "Not yet," she whispered, and wriggled under him until he covered her like a blanket. "We have a few more minutes before the rest of the crew wonders where we are."

"I don't even think the door's locked."

The image of a crewmember strolling in and finding the two commanding officers naked on the conference table sent her into another fit of laughter. "Can you imagine Tuvok's expression if he walked in on us?"

He sat up a little and shook his head. "Tuvok wouldn't have said anything." He drew himself up and raised his eyebrow at her in a passable imitation of their security chief. "'Captain, Commander. I see you are...in conference. Excuse me.'"

"What about Tom? 'Well, well, well. Looks like the Captain is glad to see you, Chakotay...'"

He laughed softly. "Tom would have stood there and watched."

"And cheered," she added. "I think they all would have cheered."

"Except Neelix."

Simultaneously they turned to each other, eyes wide and mouths round in an imitation of Neelix's imagined horror.

"'Captain!'" she squeaked.

"'Commander!'" he spluttered.

"'Why wasn't I notified of your relationship?'"

"'It concerns my duties as -- '"

"'Morale officer!'" they finished together, and fell on each other's shoulders, laughing uncontrollably.

His arms slipped around her again, pressed her close to his side until they had both laughed themselves out of breath. One of his hands stroked the back of her neck. "Next time," he asked softly, "can I let your hair down?"

She closed her eyes, imagining it. "Only if you promise that next time we can do this somewhere more comfortable. My back is killing me."

"I'll rub it for you later."

"We should probably get dressed -- Tom is planning a surprise party for you and I'm supposed to lure you to Sandrine's in about 15 minutes."

He slipped off the table and began to pull on his uniform. "So this was all part of your little plan to get me there?"

She smirked at him. "Hardly."

They dressed quickly, after taking a moment to sort their scattered uniforms, tangled together in a heap on the conference room floor. She reached out and zipped his uniform for him, stood back and nodded in approval. "It's good to have you back, Commander."

His eyes sparkled at her. "It's good to be back, Captain."

This time when she put her arms around him they both sighed contentedly, held for an instant, then turned away from each other and left the room, hoping no one would notice their smiles.


End file.
